We Live to Rise
by mydarkestway
Summary: Two years after the attacks in New York City, young Viola Pine moves there in hopes of confronting Tony Stark. It turns out to be a lot harder than she expected. Especially when a naked man claiming to be a God appears drunk on her doorstep. Against her better judgment she takes him in to learn of a truth more shocking than the secrets she holds within.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

New York was one of those cities that you could never forget. It was vast, and bustling, and so many scents that you couldn't pinpoint one. Buildings were tall, and they melted into one another on every street. Men and women dressed in all kinds of fashion from ragged second-hand stores couture to high-end suits made from the most expensive of fabrics.

Growing up in a small town in the middle of the Mid-West I never thought I'd find myself standing in the largest city in America. It was because of my mother's encouragement that I decided to leave. With bags in tow I said goodbye to my life; to the friends that I had grown up with, to the woman who had raised me, to the family that had bared with me from cute baby to impatient teenager.

I'd seen plenty of movies to prepare me for what was ahead. A city of people with culture and fashion mixed all around. A place where you could get Chinese delivered at two in the morning, and where dreams could come true. But, I also watched crime shows to warn me not to talk to strangers and to avoid anyone with promises of stardom unless Google checked them out as safe. Not that stardom was what I was in search for. No, I wanted something much more important than stardom.

Little did I know that the New York I'd seen in films and on the TV wasn't exactly as glamorous as I'd expected. Sure I could get Chinese delivered at two in the morning, and yes there were a lot of people with different stories and filled with culture and search for dreams come true. But, New York was a dump. And, for as many people as there were it was pretty lonely.

Lonely might not be the exact word I'm searching for. After all, my neighbors offered a lot of company. They didn't know me. But, from the constant screaming and-other noises-I knew an awful lot about them. So far I've learned their names were Dumb Bitch Slut and Tiny Cock Douchbag and that DBS worked nights at a strip club and that TCD was jobless and didn't support DBS's life decisions. Oh, and that she was a dumb bitch slut and he had a tiny cock. Basically all I really needed to know about the couple.

The view I'd been promised when searching for an apartment wasn't the city skyline view I was promised. Instead it a window above an alley way that looked straight into an Armenian family whose overweight and hairy father liked to walk around shirtless. And, the spacious living room, wide dining-room and beautiful bedroom were all lumped together into one area with a closet for a bathroom.

As disappointing as it was I didn't plan on being there long. I had a mission and once it was done I'd head back to Iowa to where I belonged. There wasn't room in New York for a small town country girl who enjoyed looking at the stars and riding horses when she was feeling overwhelmed.

With my purse clenched tightly to my chest I left the small studio apartment and took the first cab I could get a hold of to Stark Tower. Today will be the day your life changes forever, I told myself as I stared at the large silver building. The word STARK glistened in the sun overhead nearly blinding me as I stared at it.

Inhaling deeply I walked inside and listened to my booted heels clack against the marble floor. A woman in a neatly pressed suit looked up from behind her desk. She greeted me with a perfectly trained smile and in a formal voice asked if she could help me.

I licked my lips and felt as though my chest was about to explode. This is it, you can do it., I said to myself. The woman's smile began to falter and I realized I'd been standing at her desk silently staring at her for a few moments too long. "I'm here to see Tony Stark."

She nodded and turned to her computer. Her manicured fingernails clacked along the keyboard as she asked, "Do you have an appointment?" I shook my head no and felt my confidence wavering. The woman looked at me with a frown. "You need an appointment to see Mr. Stark. However, I can make one for you. His next available opening is in December on the third." Her fingers moved quickly along the keyboard. She turned from the screen and her trained smile appeared once more." What is this in regards to?"

"I'm his daughter."


	2. Chapter One: Daddy Issues

**Chapter One: Daddy Issues**

Growing up I never knew who my father was. For a while it never really bothered me until I noticed my friends celebrating Father's Day or at school sometimes students would bring in their father's to talk about their jobs. They were all loving men, who made jokes and seemed very loving. As time grew on I realized that the pining in my heart was from wanting what other peers of mine had.

When I finally had the courage to ask my mother who my father was she smiled at me sweetly and said he was a very busy man. It wasn't a satisfying enough answer. So again when I confronted her I demanded answers and the truth. She looked at me, running her palm down my straight dark brown hair and smiled.

Then she kissed the top of my head and said, "Just like your father."

It was several years later until I found the courage to ask again. I was nearing my eighteenth birthday and my best friend Janelle Larquette encouraged me to try once more. Taking her advice I asked my mother one last time who my father was. With tears in her light green eyes she sat me down and told me everything I'd craved to know.

She was sixteen, young and naïve. At the time she lived in California with her Grandfather to try out for a modeling career. She'd had a few offers, even a few jobs here and there but nothing really big. One photo shoot she was charmed by the handsome photographer who invited her to a party being thrown by Vogue. It was there she met none other than Tony Stark.

"Oh Darling," she soothed rubbing her fingers along the pearls that dangled at her throat. A faint smile traced her weary lips as her gaze was cast off in memory. "He was mesmerizing. Every female there-even some males-could not tear their eyes from him. He wasn't just handsome, but charming and funny and the intelligence radiated off of him. This was the kind of man my mother warned me upon my move to California. And, this was the man that I knew would break my heart."

Their fling was short lived to her dismay. He left her the moment he got what he needed. "He took my heart but," she smiled and grabbed my hand tightly, "he left something even greater. You," she said kissing my forehead.

I stared at her in disbelief. "So you're saying that Tony Stark, no-Iron Man-is my father?" My mother nodded. "And, you have proof of this other than your word?"

"I wouldn't lie to you my sweet," she said. The strain was in her voice but I ignored it as I stared hard at her. "Viola, you are the daughter of Tony Stark." Before I could respond with some snarky comment she handed me a photo. "It's not DNA proof but hopefully proof enough for you."

With trembling fingers I took the photo from her grasp and stared at the crinkled picture. Staring up at me were two sets of eyes, both young and carefree. My mother looked radiant with her long blonde hair pulled into a side ponytail dressed in the latest 80's fashion. Her smile was wide, her lips full and painted pink. Her nose turned up, cheeks plump like a mouse. I often wondered if we were even related, we looked almost nothing alike.

Tony stood next to her with his arm casually draped around her shoulders. His hair was styled casually, the color of dark wood similar to my own. The light in his coffee brown eyes swirled with joy resembling the color of my own, only a shade darker. The straightness of his nose, the thinness of his lips-it was like looking into a mirror.

Three years later I decided it was time I confronted him. My mother tried to discourage me at first. And, I knew she was afraid of him breaking my heart just as he did her own. After several more heart-filled and tear driven conversations she encouraged me to find him. She even bought my plane ticket and paid for my first month of rent.

I just wanted him to know that I existed and she understood. At first I thought just knowing who he was would be enough for me. But it wasn't. I wanted more. I deserved to know who my father really was, not just his name and what I read online.

And, from what I learned I wasn't very impressed. Sure, he was a genius and he'd gone a long way from making weapons of war to making a name for himself in clean energy. But, it didn't wipe away the history of women, the drinking and gambling and the smugness that ate at every smile in every photo.

On my way to New York I sat next to a father and his younger child. Every time that I started to regret my decision of leaving home I found myself staring at their interactions. I knew that Tony wouldn't welcome me with open arms, and I knew that he wouldn't want to play ball in the park or catch in the back yard but perhaps we'd have some sort of bond. That bond that I'd been craving for since I was little. And that was what kept me from crying for my mommy all the way to New York.

As I stood in the large building filled with people in suits carrying briefcases that chattered loudly on their cell phones I felt like that small scared girl again who wanted her mommy there to hold her hand. Swallowing hard I tried to smile at the woman who stared at me with disbelief on her face. She lifted her hands from the keyboard and folded her fingers together. It was exactly what my teacher would do before reprimanding one of her students. I started to cringe.

She licked her red lips and smiled a little too sweetly. "Tony Stark's daughter?" I nodded. "You realize that you're the fifth person _this_ week alone whose tried to pull the I-am-Tony-Stark's-kid bit?"

I shook my head. "I have a picture," I said as I turned to dig in my purse.

"Oh a picture," she squealed tearing the photo from my hands the moment that I pulled it free from my purse. She barely even looked at it before tossing it back at me. I scrambled to catch it before it floated onto the floor as the woman before me picked up the phone. "Well that just proves everything. Let me call Mr. Stark right away."

"Really!?" I asked a little too eagerly as I straightened up.

She nodded and held up her painted nails and spoke into the speaker, "Yes, I have a Miss-" she put her hand over the bottom of the phone and raised both brows in question.

"Oh," I leaned forward and whispered, "Viola Pine."

"…" she looked me up and down. "A Miss Viola Pine here wanting to see Mr. Stark" There was a short pause. "Yes, she claims to be his daughter. "A small smile cracked on her lips as she strongly said, "She had a photo and everything. Yes. Uh-huh. Okay, great thank you." She hung up the phone and turned back to the computer. "Yeah he's not going to see you and that was security on the phone. They've already got your face in the database thanks to the cameras every where so I suggest you leave before you're forced to leave."

"I just want-" she shot me a look that quieted me instantly. Clutching my photo to my chest I power walked my way out of the building without looking back.

* * *

The little café across the street served probably the best iced tea I've ever had. I was never big on coffee, or warm tea for that matter but give me a pitcher of iced tea and I was a happy girl. But, as I sat on the patio sipping at the best tea I'd ever had in my life I wasn't happy. Not even close. I was at a dead end with no connections to get me anywhere near Tony Stark.

It was stupid of me to go in there thinking I could just waltz in and ask to see Tony Stark. It was even more stupid of me to believe that a photo would be proof enough. It might have been proof enough for me but Tony stark was a billionaire playboy. He probably had woman claiming their children were his all the time. I didn't want his money, or his fame. I just wanted a father.

But, the dumbest thing of all was for me to move to New York alone with one plan on how to get to Tony Stark. I should have had more ideas, other ways to contact him. Sadly, I was just a naïve little girl from Iowa. I didn't know what I was doing.

"Waiting for Iron Man?" I looked away from the Stark Tower to see a smiling blonde waitress smiling down at me. She held a pitcher and started to refill my tea until it was full. She looked back to the building and the folds of her shirt revealed her nametag: Beth. "We get a lot of people coming here to try and catch a glimpse of him. Sometimes you'll see him flying to and from the towers. He's been pretty quiet lately though since the Chitauri attacks and The Avengers disappearance but you can spot him every so often."

It had been a little over two years since New York had succumbed to an alien invasion. It was all over the news how an alien race called the Chitauri had come from a portal in the sky attacking the city in fleets. A group of six superheroes that called themselves The Avenger's fought them off, saving not just New York but ultimately the world. Iron Man, Tony Stark, my father was among them.

After the attack The Avenger's went their separate ways and Tony refused to do any press that revolved around them. All he had said was that when Earth needed them once more they would be there. They might not be able to save the world, but they could avenge it. And that was all he would say on the matter.

I leaned forward, situating myself in a more comfortable position. It was then that an idea popped into my head. "Are you hiring?"

* * *

"No Mom I don't need your help. I promise I'm doing fine. Well, he's a busy man and I don't have concrete proof that I'm his daughter." I sighed. "No Mom I don't need you to call him." _His bitchy receptionist probably would have your number blocked within the minute of finding out why you're calling_, I thought bitterly to myself. "I love you too. Bye."

It had been nearly a month since my arrival to New York City. I still had yet to meet with Tony but at least I had a paying job as a waitress. And, I made a friend in Beth which was nice considering how lonely I was getting without Janelle. We would Skype every so often but it just wasn't the same. Unfortunately the three weeks that I'd been there not once had I seen Iron Man flying over head. Even more to my dismay there had been two different sightings, both of which were on my days off.

I was getting no where and it was frustrating. It was so frustrating that I thought about giving up on many occasions. As I slipped on my yellow blouse and fitted my black apron around my waist I started to realize that this whole thing was in vain. My plan of hoping to catch glimpse of Iron Man was pointless. I didn't even know what I would do if I saw him. It wasn't like I could shout to him that I was his daughter. He wouldn't hear me to begin with and-well, that was just crazy.

Beth greeted me with a smile as I entered the café. She was busy taking an order from an elderly couple that seemed confused by the senior discounts. I rolled my eyes already growing tired of the food business. How she's managed it for five years I'd never understand.

My shift seemed to drag on as I took orders and poured endless amounts of coffee. I listened to the idle chatter and the anticipation of children as they pointed at the building and watched in hopes of glimpsing Iron Man. I rolled my eyes trying my hardest not to be bitter and ruin their excitement.

By the end of the night my feet ached, my body was soar and I was ridiculously grumpy. Not to mention it was raining and I'd left my umbrella at home. All I wanted to do was curl up on my futon and read a book by the flickering light. In the morning I'd call my mom and beg her to buy me a plane ticket so that I could go home. I should have given up on this stupid endeavor the moment I set foot off that plane.

Beth and I said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. The cab ride home was long and the smell of drying rain mixed with grease wasn't a pleasant one. It looked as though my book would have to wait; a shower was a much needed priority.

Once I arrived in front of my apartment building I paid my cab fare and trudged through the rain. A couple of men sat at the stairs making kissing noises as I walked by. Pushing the tears back I kept my head low and ignored their advanced slipping through the doors so that I could practically run to my apartment. The moment that I was inside I locked both dead bolts and the doorknob.

I bit my lower lip as I took a step back, staring hard at the rusted gold chains that dangled against the faux wood. The tears I tried to keep away skirted along the corners of my eyes as I sighed weakly. My fingers trembled while they worked to undo the buttons of my coat. They fumbled awkwardly, the cold pinching at my bones. Frustrated, I cried out and threw myself against the door, sliding down until I sat on the floor.

The tears flowed freely running along my reddened cheeks. It really was time for me to go home. I didn't belong here, I wasn't meant for the city life.

* * *

Thunder boomed loudly and jolted me from my dreamless state. My heart drummed against my chest as I swallowed hard and looked around the apartment. Lightning flashed through the curtains, illuminating my surroundings. Everything was as it should be yet I couldn't help but feel unnerved.

Again the thunder crashed angrily against the Heaven's. I licked my lips and stood up, pushing the heavy comforter from my bare legs. Carefully, I walked to the door and pressed my ear against the thin wood. My breathing was heavy and in between the thunder and crackle of lightning it was all I could hear. I tapped my finger against the door lightly and sighed, stepping away as something heavy banged against it. Involuntarily a scream slipped from my lips and I stepped back watching the door until it vibrated with a bang once more.

"Who-who's there?" I stuttered, grabbing at the broom that leaned against my fridge. Of course no one answered but it didn't stop me from asking.

When several moments passed I walked toward the door once more and looked out the peep hole. A figure of a man leaned against the wood on the other side. I was about to call the police when I heard him groan.

"Open this door, mortal. I seek shelter," he slurred, his accent thick and hard to place.

I remained still. "Go away," I shouted back holding tightly onto the broom handle. "I'll call the police."

"I mean you no harm. I am wounded and only seek assistance," he moaned and I could hear him slump against the door once more.

This was it. This was where young girls in slasher flicks died. It was always the naïve stupid ones who opened the door to the stranger. The ones who let those strangers into their homes only to be raped and murdered. And I was one of those naïve girls, I knew it, I always had been one. It was why I told myself to mind to my own business.

Even as I told myself the rules I'd made upon moving to New York I found myself fumbling to unlock the door. My fingers hovered above the last deadbolt and I heard myself stupidly making a deal with someone that was a complete stranger.

"Promise me that you won't rape or murder or hurt me?" It sounded stupid the moment the words slipped from my lips.

"I am a man of honor. I promise," said the voice on the other side.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd promise. But, even against my cynical comments to myself I slid the dead bolt free and pulled open the door. The last thing expected was to find a tall, scrawny man with untamed shoulder length hair standing in my doorway-naked.


	3. Chapter Two: The would be King

**Chapter Two: The would be King**

He said his name was Loki, the would-be King of a place called Asgard. He was a God among my people, above reproach and my mulling comments about the police. His manner was haughty, and he clearly didn't care for my presence. But he was weak and needed sustainment that required my immediate attention.

I stared at him dumbstruck with my hands firmly placed on my hips. He had to be kidding me. Or, at least very drunk. I watched him with a mix of amusement and horror as he stumbled around my studio apartment speaking in a tongue that I did not recognize. He had to be drunk.

Dropping my hands to the side I strode over to the small in-table by my bedside and reached for my cell phone. He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me sharply. I carefully stepped backwards putting some distance in between us. Thunder rolled through the silence as I waited for him to make his move.

"I suggest not that you do that," he said in a lilting voice.

I nervously held my phone, the sweat filling in my palm. Swallowing, I scanned my surroundings to see if I could use anything as a weapon. There were a couple of heavy books next to my bed and my shoes were strewn throughout the apartment. Other than that I really had nothing.

He took a small step forward and I jolted backwards. "Don't come near me," I warned, not nearly as threatening sounding as I had hoped. He smiled slightly, curiosity danced in his dark blue eyes. "It was a mistake letting you in here, so please just leave."

"In aiding a King I will reward you handsomely," he said softly, gesturing to naked lower half.

The heat burned at my cheeks and my throat as I looked away, shutting my eyes tight. "NO!" I nearly screamed holding up my hands to block his bottom half. "I don't want any reward I just want you to leave."

"If you do not wish to enjoy my seed I can reward you in less pleasurable ways. The aid of those-even lowly humans such as yourself-do not go unnoticed." Slowly I opened my eyes and turned to look at him-my hand still in place-and let my mouth drop. He smiled and gestured around the apartment. "I need clothing, food and a place to rest my head for the night."

"Listen, you're drunk. I'll give you cab fare and they'll take you to The Mission where you can get all of that," I said walking over to my purse. I pulled out my wallet and dug around for some change until I pulled out two twenties. Huffing loudly I hand him the money but he stared at it with a quizzical expression. "This should get you to where you need to go."

"This will not do," he said in a matter-of-fact tone and snubbed away the money. "I need something that belongs to me," he soothed running his long, bony fingers through his dark hair. "A Scepter," he informed. A small smile slid onto his classically handsome face. I swallowed hard and turned my gaze away from him. "Once its possession is mine I shall repay you in gratitude."

"I don't know where any scepter would be," I said, ready to stomp my feet in annoyance. I strode over to him and roughly placed the money into his open palms. My fingers closed around his to make sure he held onto it tight. "Take this, and go. Maybe someone else will be able to aid you in your search."

He glowered at me, a deeper loathing than just being annoyed at my resistance to help burned in his eyes. "Very well," he said pulling his grasp free from my own.

The man that claimed to be a God and a King named Loki turned away from me, his naked behind toned and well-defined. My eyes shut tightly as I pushed the blood from rising by taking in several deep breaths. I listened to his footsteps head toward the door, his hand on the doorknob anticipating his leave.

When the door did not open I peeked one eye to see him standing awkwardly before me, an almost helpless look in his self-loathing gaze. "Do you know where I can find Tony Stark?" he asked.

I titled my head, opening both eyes wide. "Do you know him?" I asked, the wheels turning in my brain.

"Let's just say he owes me a drink," said Loki, smiling to himself.

I frowned. "Why do you want to see him?"

"He'll have my Scepter. Or, at least know where I can find it." He shrugged and turned back to the door.

I didn't know exactly what was going through my mind. So many thoughts blurred into another that I found myself hailing for Loki as he opened the door. I ran to it, closing it and each bolt then pressed my back against it as though that would keep from him leaving. He stared at me with furrowed eyebrows but remained silent as he waited for me to speak.

It took a few moments to figure out what I was going to say. And, even a few more minutes to wrap my mind around it. It was stupid, and rash and I was about to make a deal with a drunk, crazed-lunatic but I was grasping at nothing in my quest to speak to Tony and this was at least concrete.

Scrapping the bottom of my lip with my teeth, I forced myself to speak. "If I give you clothing, food and a place to sleep will you take me with you when you go to speak to Tony Stark?"

He raised a dark eyebrow and titled his head slightly. "Is that what you would like in payment for your assistance?"

I started to nod my head before throwing out, "and I want your promise that you won't let any harm come to me. That you won't-" I felt my lip curl as my eyes scanned his small-muscled, runner's body, "take advantage of me," I finished lamely.

Loki placed his hand to his chest and curtly bowed with a small lean forward. "You have my word."

My mother would die of a heart attack if she knew what I had just done. Shoving the thought away I headed to the small closet and pulled the door open to scan the contents inside. I reached for a pair of sweatpants and the largest shirt I could find, that was two sizes too big for me.

Grimacing, I thrusted them into Loki's arms and said, "these probably won't fit but they'll do until we can get you actual clothing in the morning." He nodded, understanding the circumstances and donned on the too short sweat pants and the snug tee-shirt. I brought my hand up to my mouth and tried to stifle a laugh, "it'll do," I reminded, ignoring the glare that he sent my way.

"Where shall I sleep?" he asked tugging uncomfortably on the hem of the shirt. I pointed at the floor and turned to grab a pillow and the throw blanket from my bed. I tossed them at his feet and smiled. "Wipe that smile off of your face you mulling simpleton of a woman. I am a God and I will not be treated by such disrespect." He stepped forward and I felt myself go rigid with fear. His hands clenched into a fist as his eyes dropped to the floor. "This will do," he finished with a whisper, grabbing at the blanket and pillow to make a bed upon the floor.

I inhaled unevenly as I slowly fell onto to my own bed. He faced the door, his back turned towards me. His breathing faded in and out until it was nothing more than a faint whisper along his lips. I laid down and stared up at the cracked ceiling knowing that I wouldn't get any sleep that night. Blinking a few times, I let my eyes close and listen to the sound of his soft, slow breathing so that when it stopped I'd know to open my eyes.

* * *

"Wake up," hissed a slightly familiar voice next to my ear. I bolted upward, sitting unusually straight and ran my hand through my coffee-bean colored hair so that I could see. Loki stood, still dressed in the attire I'd donned on him only hours ago, with his hands folded neatly behind his back. "We have a lot to do today," he said snapping his fingers at me like a dog for him to command.

I groaned and searched around the apartment for my alarm clock that blinked 5:46 in the morning. Shaking my head I fell flat on the bed and closed my eyes. "It's too early. Try again in a few hours," I muttered grunting as the blankets were pulled from my legs. I sat up, and glared. "Really?"

He smiled almost wickedly. "The day is new. The sun rises not I think for you to waste away in bed."

Sighing I flung my feet onto the wooden floor and felt my lip curl as I grabbed for the clothes that laid strewn at the foot of the bed. I slipped my bra underneath the Hawkeye tee that I'd slept in. My hands fumbled as I pulled up the slightly wrinkled jeans, the button refusing to slide through the ridiculously small hole. It was too early for this, I thought once it finally clasped.

Through tear-filled eyes, I blinked away the sleep and yawned as I set to search for a matching pair of shoes. Settling on a pair of gray flats, I slipped them on and pulled my hair into a thick, ponytail from the elastic band that was on my wrist. Stifling a yawn I ran my fingers through the end to brush out what tangles that I could and threw my ponytail over my shoulder so that it touched almost to the top of my rib.

This wasn't exactly how I planned to look when meeting with Tony for the first time but I could tell from the impatient look that Loki was giving me that I didn't have an option. Besides, I didn't feel too comfortable with the idea of taking a shower knowing he was there. It was bad enough that I'd let myself fall asleep with him next to my bed. Well, if I was keeping track of bad ideas I should add the fact that I let a complete stranger into my apartment.

I grabbed the photo of my mother and Tony off of the kitchen table and the keys that set next to it. I looked Loki up and down as we walked into the hallway and locked my door. "We should probably get you some clothes," I said stuffing the keys into the back pocket of my jeans. "I'm assuming that because you didn't exactly have pockets last night that you don't have any money."

Loki strode behind me, his back straight and his head held high. He had to still be drunk. "I do not have any need for currency in your world. I only need my Scepter."

I grimaced, ignoring the fact that he had just said, 'your world' rather than just saying America. If his accent was proof enough the way that he talked proved that he was an out of towner. Well, I guess he did mention that he was from Asgard last night. I'd have to Google it sometime because it was unfamiliar to me. And, to be honest if it was Paris, France or London, England I didn't really pay much attention to European cities and countries.

Scratching behind my ear, I shrugged. "Well, in America you need money to buy things. I wouldn't be surprised if that meant you had to buy your Scepter back too," I said casually but from the way that Loki's eyes darkened I could tell he wasn't amused. I ignored it, and pointed at a small consignment shop that nestled in between a Verizon store and a bakery.

My stomach rumbled and I knew I'd have to get some food soon. The smell of freshly baked bread glazed with sweets made my mouth nearly water. I stopped in front of the consignment shop noting that it didn't open for another hour, and convinced Loki that we get something to eat first. He didn't argue, but his nose turned up as we entered the small building.

We were greeted by an eager old man with a thick French accent that sounded a little too fake for my taste. One thing I'd learned upon moving to New York was that people tended to do whatever it meant to get ahead in their job or business. That included creating fake accents to make your bakery seem more authentic.

My hungry eyes scanned the glass, my stomach rumbled at the indecisiveness that ran through my mind. Everything just looked so delicious that I couldn't choose. Cinnamon rolls the size of two of my fists were freshly frosted, the white goo dripping to the side as it slowly started to harden. Thick croissants sat beside them polished with butter and an assortment of fruits that donned atop of them. Éclairs just pulled from the oven were covered in chocolate with one strawberry placed neatly in the middle.

I just wanted to eat everything in my sight. Loki breathed impatiently behind me and I rolled my eyes as I stood straight and ordered a croissant covered in blueberry jam. "What would you like?" I asked Loki, digging in my purse for my wallet.

"I do not care for these kinds of human sustenance."

I shrugged, "fine then, starve," I said and turned back to the baker with a twenty. He gave me my change quickly and handed me the croissant wrapped neatly in wax paper decorated with Eiffel towers. I thanked him and put a dollar and some change in the tip jar.

We walked back outside and I was grateful that it wasn't raining. The sun had yet to actually rise over the city and a slight wind made me wish I'd grabbed a sweater. I leaned against the brick wall and turned my attention to my breakfast slightly disappointed that it wasn't as near delicious as it had looked.

"So, where is Asgard?" I asked in between mouthfuls of bread.

Loki curled his lip and scrunched his nose as he turned to face me. I wiped at the crumbs that had fallen onto my shirt with the brush of my hand, and raised an eyebrow in waiting. He sighed heavily, his chest heaving up and down as he wrestled with the idea on answering me or not.

Well, fine I'd just make the decision for him. "Never mind. I don't care," I said, my automatic defense for when people annoyed me.

Shortly after, an elderly woman walked to the door of the consignment shopped and unlocked it. Noticing that we were waiting she said she'd open as quickly as she could and would let us in. I nodded, crumpling the wax paper in my hand and tossing it in a nearby trash can.

Not much longer she opened the door for us and smiled, inviting us in with the wave of her hand. I thanked her and gestured for Loki to follow me inside. The moment we entered the smell of musk and old books slapped me in the face. I tried to keep from coughing as we sauntered over to the men's section.

In a rush, Loki grabbed a bright orange shirt and auburn corduroy trousers that were much too small in the rise. They'd stop just above his ankles if he were to wear them. I shook my head, and put them back onto the rack. Noting his impatience I did hurry to find something that'd keep attention away from us and went with a plain forest-pine v-neck, a dark gray vest and several pairs of jeans all of a similar blue and basic style.

"Why must I try these on?" he asked, shoving the clothes that I'd grabbed for him back into to my arms.

I grunted, trying not to drop anything and sighed. "Because if you don't try them on we won't know if they fit and if they don't fit then you'll just look-well for lack of a better word-stupid," I finished, shoving the clothes back into his arms.

He muttered in his native tongue and the followed the elderly lady to the fitting room. Folding my arms across my chest I trailed after, scanning the area as I waited for Loki to dress. A couple of old dolls sat on bookshelves that were stored with books that looked older than my deceased great-grandparents. Casually, I strolled over to them and grabbed for a leather bound book covered in dust. My fingers brushed against the binding, the dirt wiping off and into the air.

Just as I was about to open it Loki stepped out and I felt my breath catch in my chest. For being a drunk, crazed homeless man he was actually quiet striking. The darkness of his hair contrasted with the blue of his eyes, and the green of his shirt made light green speckles flicker through the blue. The vest fit nicely, giving him a laid-back yet formal look and the jeans actually covered his ankles to his bare feet.

Grimacing, I shut the book and set it down in search of some shoes. I didn't even realize that he was bare foot the entire time we were strolling through the sidewalk and the bakery. The concrete must have been cold on his feet and I'm surprised he didn't mention it.

I found a pair of black dress shoes and tossed them his way. He slid them on and I nodded. "Now you look like you can go out in public," I said hiding my smile.

The elderly woman that owned the store walked on over to us and clapped her hands together. "Oh, don't you look handsome," she gushed. "If you'd like you can just take the tags off of the clothes and I can ring them up so you don't have to undress."

Thanking her I set to helping Loki gather the price tags and felt my stomach drop as I added the prices together. It totaled to almost everything that I had made last night. I'd have to pick up a shift if I was going to make this month's rent, I thought somberly as I handed the woman my debit card.

Just as she was about to ring the transaction Loki strode over and tossed one of the thick, leather-bound books onto the counter. "What is this?" I asked.

"A book," he said calmly.

I put one hand on my hip and bit my tongue to keep from saying something out of line. "I know what a book is, Loki. Why is it here?"

"I need you to purchase it for me," he answered.

I shook my head. "I barely have enough for your clothes," I said picking the heavy book from the counter and placing it back in his hands. "Go put it back where you found it. And, make sure you grab my clothes from the fitting room."

I watched him saunter off, and I couldn't help but be reminded of a very, impudent child at that moment. It was stupid of me to be helping him. For all I knew he was just out of his mind and how no idea who Tony Stark really was. This was probably just another stupid endeavor in my pointless quest.

Once the receipt was in my hand, Loki was back with my clothes in hand. I thanked him and put them in a plastic bag. "Shall we?" I asked. He said nothing and walked out of the consignment shop without even saying thank you for the clothes I'd just bought for him.

Trying not to let it get to me, I followed him outside and said goodbye to the kind old woman. Loki stood outside, waiting for me to meet him where I hailed a cab and gave him the familiar directions to the Stark Tower. Nerves began to eat away at my stomach as I thought on the possibility that Loki might be telling the truth and that I would finally get to meet my father.


	4. Chapter Three: Daddy's Girl

**Chapter Three: Daddy's Girl**

The familiar receptionist greeted Loki and I with the same trained smile I'd received almost a month ago. It was clear from the greeting that she gave us that she didn't recognize me at all. Of course it was silly to think that she actually would but part of me wondered if she'd been lying when she said that security would escort me from the building should I ever step inside again.

But, just in case she wasn't lying I tried my best to keep my face hidden from cameras. Loki, however, strode to the desk and ignored her greeting. "I demand to see Stark," he said, in a booming voice.

The woman brushed aside his tone and turned to her keyboard, her long nails clacking against the buttons. "Do you have an appointment?" she asked.

"No, and I do not need one," he said reaching over and shoving the woman's computer onto the floor. She pushed away from her desk with her rolling chair and quickly stood to her feet, her face horror-stricken. "Tell him Loki requests that drink he was offered years ago." When the woman did not move he shouted, "NOW!" and slammed his fists against the desk.

A few stragglers watched in curiosity but did nothing to help the woman who was being belittled by Loki. I felt my face go red as I started to realize what I fool I was. This man wasn't just a drunken idiot. He was crazy, and from the burning of his blue eyes, I realized just how dangerous he was. It was maddening of me to make a deal with him. I should have called the police when I had the chance.

The receptionist cried into the phone as she asked for Tony Stark saying it was an emergency. A loud dinging caught mine and Loki's attention as the elevator door's opened and security rushed out onto the floor. Three large men dressed in suits of black and white rushed our way, with guns pointed in our direction.

Loki pushed me out of the way with a force that I'd never imagine possible for someone of his stature. I landed awkwardly onto the marbled floor, a good fifty feet away from where I was standing before. A sharp pain racked at my side as I tried to breathe and I was certain that I'd bruised a rib upon my landing.

Gripping at the pain, I tried to sit up and watched in fascinated horror as Loki moved with an inhuman speed, dodging the punches that each guard tossed his way. He grabbed at the arm of one of the three men with precise aim and with the snap of his hand the man's arm broke, the bone poking through his suit.

My mind screamed at me to get up and run but my body refused. I was transfixed. The receptionist and those who were in the lobby before cleared out in a mad race to get away. Their fear overwhelming and their screams nearly deafening and yet I remained still, sprawled out on the ground staring at Loki in terror.

The tallest of the three men raised his gun and aimed at Loki's head, his finger pulling quickly on the trigger. I covered my ears and closed my eyes at the sound of a body dropping to the ground. Daring to look I opened my eyes to see the man was unconscious on the floor, the bullet of his gun through his head. I didn't understand until I saw in between Loki's fingers was a stray bullet from the third man's gun. He had caught it just as it was about to penetrate through him.

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Even as he flicked the bullet back at his attacker and the bullet shot threw him faster than the power of a gun's barrel I didn't believe it. As the man fell forward, grabbing at the wound that seconds later took his life my eyes tried to see it as nothing more than a trick.

But, three men dead laid at Loki's feet with hardly an effort on his part. He smoothed back the stray strands of his raven hair and slowly turned to face me. Quickly, I scrambled to my feet ignoring the sharp pain at my side as I stood up. Loki held out his hand but I refused to take it, and stepped back instead.

"You are wise to be frightened," he said in his strangely calm voice. "But, you will come with me. I promised to take you to see Tony Stark and I am not a man to go back on his word. Now, come," he said sharply, thrusting his hand forward once more for me to take.

With trembling fingers I reached out and placed my hand in his own. He curled his long, bony fingers around mine and pulled me toward the elevators. Once inside he demanded that I take us to the floor that Tony Stark resided on. I wasn't sure, but if his flair for life wasn't covered on every magazine in the world, I assumed we'd find him in the penthouse.

I pressed the button and watched the elevators close, the bodies of the three dead men the last thing I saw before we were taken up.

* * *

The doors opened and we stepped inside a carpeted hallway that lead to a large double door. I jumped at the sound of the doors closing behind us and Loki placed his hand against my back to still my nerves. Only they had the opposite effect and I felt even more nervous than before. Suddenly the thought of how I was dressed was the least of my problems upon my first meeting with my father. I was being delivered to him by the hand of a killer.

We moved forward, each step seemed like it took an eternity. The walls closed in, growing smaller as the door grew closer. It became hard to breath and I felt as though my lungs were going to collapse. My hands started to shake as sweat rolled along my hairline. It was hard to swallow, a lump the size of my fist made it more difficult than it should have been. Never in my life had I felt so weak.

I looked up at Loki and noticed for the first time how tall he actually was. At least over six feet, towering over me making me feel smaller than I actually was. He carried himself with a sense of entitlement, and held his head high so that his chin was leveled to his chest. As crazy as it was I started to believe that he might be the prince, or would-be-king or whatever he wanted to call it of the country called Asgard. He certainly walked like one.

Finally, we reached the door. I brought my hand up slowly, curling my fingers into a fist when Loki kicked at it instead. The door flew open, skidding along the floor leaving chunks of wood scattered around us. My mouth involuntarily dropped open as he casually stepped inside, avoiding the debris. Not exactly sure what to do, I followed him inside to see Tony Stark nonchalantly pouring himself a drink behind a built-in bar, completely unphased by the fact that his door had been blown to pieces.

He looked up at the two of us, his gaze glancing over me to where Loki stood. A smile crept upon his slightly-aged face as he placed the stopper on a bottle of what appeared to be some sort of whiskey. "I was wondering when you'd come by for that drink I offered you," he said cavalier-like, holding up the glass and walking over to hand it to Loki. He took a sip from his own drink and smacked his lips together before finally recognizing that I was there. "I didn't realize you'd bring company."

I started to open my mouth when Loki spoke for me. "I acquired her assistance as of last night and we struck a deal upon the agreement that she'd get to meet you." He brought the glass to his mouth and drank heartily, the clanking of ice hitting along the rim. His face pulled together, the bottom of his mouth curled and his nose crinkled sharply. "This is awful," he said handing the glass back to Tony who smiled in response.

"A fan girl, huh?" He winked and walked back to the bar. "And, what would the pretty lady like for a drink. It's bad manners not to offer."

"Oh no, I don't drink," I said the words slipping out before I could register them. That was it. Those were the first words I said upon meeting my Father. It wasn't exactly the way I'd planned it in my head over and over and over. "I actually—"

"So, why are you here Loki?" He asked clearly not interested about me. It stung, but I pushed it aside. His dark brown eyes had hardened and his lips thinned. "I'm going to assume that Thor doesn't know you're here."

"That impudent little boy won't figure out my whereabouts until I am long gone," he said soothingly. "I came for my Scepter and I knew you'd know where it was at."

"You mean that little spear of destiny that you used to destroy the world two years ago?" Loki said nothing. "Yes, I know where it is. But, no I don't plan on telling you."

I looked up at him putting two and two together. Two years ago New York was attacked by the alien race called the Chitauri. They had a leader but the media wasn't ever able to get their hands on any names. It was this Loki. He was the madman behind the attacks, the one that killed hundreds upon hundreds of New Yorkers.

I helped him. I clothed him. I let him sleep in my apartment. I didn't need a mirror to know that all the color that was in my face was now gone. I had a hand in the aid a wanted war criminal. My stomach turned in disapproval. I'd let my nativity get the best of me once again. God, I was so stupid!

"So, here's the plan. It can go two ways. One I'm going to kick your ass, and call in Thor to take you back to where you belong. Or two, I'm going to kick your ass, and call in Thor. Take your pick."

Loki chuckled. "Or, I think not and I take your daughter hostage until the Scepter is rightfully in my hands," he said grabbing my arm roughly and pulling it behind my back. His free hand rested against my throat; tightening it just enough that I could breathe but no sounds would escape from my lips. My heart began to beat wildly at the though of what those murderous hands could easily to do me. "I think I like this idea much more."

"First of all, I don't have a daughter," said Tony looking back and forth between the two of us. A flit of confusion swirled in the brown of his eyes but his stance remained unmoved.

"So then you won't mind if I killed her?" He asked, his grip tightening. I inhaled sharply, the air catching inside my throat so that it started to burn. Tears stung at my eyes as I tried to struggle to get free. Tony moved quickly, and Loki chuckled once more, "ah so I do have something to bargain with."

"She's just a girl, let her go. This is between you and me, Loki," pleaded Tony quietly.

"I think not," he responded.

Tony bolted forward; the glass in his hand was tossed into the air aimed at Loki's head. He dogged it with ease, pulling me along with him until we stood in front of the large, oversized windows. Tony came to an abrupt stop as Loki continued to back up towards the glass.

"There's a good boy," said Loki in a taunting tone. "Now then I want my Scepter and I don't take kindly to not getting what I want." He pushed me away from him and held onto my wrist so that the bones began to bend at the pressure waiting to break. "Each hour that I do not have it in my hands I will kill someone that you care about it. You may not know this girl but would you be willing to let her die?"

Before Tony could answer I felt the glass break against my back. Tiny shards cut through my shirt and skin as I started to free fall out the window. The air was cold and fast, wiping at my shirt and I could feel the blood run up my back and down my arms. The pain pushed at my brain, causing me to scream out as my heart pounded violently at my chest.

I closed my eyes and thought of my mother and my friends. I'd lived a good life in Iowa, why did I even bother leaving? It wasn't like I really need to know who my father was. I shouldn't have been so curious. I should have just left it like my mother wanted. Instead I had to push and persist until I was tossed out the window by a crazed lunatic that I should have called the cops on to begin with. In the end this was my fault for being so naïve.

But then, this wasn't the end. Something metal and cold grabbed at my waist and rather than falling down I was going up. My eyes slowly opened as I dared to look to see Iron Man blazing upward back through the broken window. He gently set me down onto the sofa and pressed a button on the arm of his gold and scarlet suit. The helmet descended into itself to reveal his head.

"Are you alright?" he asked. I nodded trying to sit up but failed as the glass dug itself into my back deeper. A small whimper escaped from my lips and I fell back onto the cushion. "Help will be here soon," he said putting his helmet back in place. I desperately tried to ask him to stay when he walked to the broken window and flew out.

This was not the way I was supposed to meet him. I didn't even get the chance to tell him who I was. And, yet Loki knew. How did he know who I really was? Loki was so confident when telling Tony that'd he'd use me as a hostage, calling me his daughter. If I ever saw him again I'd have to ask-

I laughed at myself. How could someone be such an idiot? Listen to me: If I ever saw him again. Why on Earth would that ever happen? This was be the last time I'd ever see the madman again. I'd make sure of it. The moment that I was healed I was headed home, back where I belonged. Tony Stark would never know he had a daughter. I met him, and that'd have to be good enough.

* * *

When I woke that following morning I was not in my small apartment, or on the plush couch in Tony Stark's penthouse. Instead, I laid on a stiff bed that smelled of stale cleaning products. I tried to move so that I could sit up but IVs tugged at my arm, pinching at my skin. My heart began to beat against my chest as I tried to recollect what had happened. The fear was rowing that it set off a couple of alarms and a nurse walked in.

"Where am I? What happened?"

"Shh now before you trigger more alarms," said the nurse in a soothing voice. "You're safe now. You had a few minor cuts and a couple more that needed stitches and one of your ribs were bruised." She patted my hand and smiled, "but you'll heal quiet nicely."

I laid back down as she requested and tried to remember what had lead me to be there. I remembered being tossed through a window by Loki and Tony in his Iron Man outfit saving me. He said help would come as he laid me on the couch and then-nothing. I grimaced slightly annoyed that I couldn't remember anything. The only conclusion I could come to was that I was in so much pain I just blanked out. After all, it was rather excruciating.

At least for now the pain was gone and I was able to think clearly. I started to wonder if I'd ever see Tony again. I doubted that I would and perhaps that was for the best. After all, I had decided to go back home. It'd be pointless to dabble on such little girl fantasies. So, I directed my thoughts away from Tony and back to Loki. God, I still couldn't believe how stupid I had been.

I should have known he was crazy the moment that I opened my door to him. If him being naked wasn't clue enough than the way he kept ranting about how he was a king should have tipped me off. But, it didn't. I just assumed he was drunk and in need of a place to sleep. Why didn't I just call the cops? Then he would have been their problem and not mine.

Sometime in between thoughts of Loki and going back home I'd fallen asleep. The feeling of someone tugging at my arm woke me and I was startled to se ea male nurse leaning over me.

"Sorry," he aid with a genuine smile of apology. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to get some blood work done."

"What for?" I asked rubbing at my face with my free hand.

"Just to make sure the glass didn't give you any infections and Mr. Stark wanted to get a paternity test done." I sat up and tugged my arm free. "Don't worry. It's just a little prick. You'll barely feel it," he soothed but that wasn't what I was afraid of.

"Don't bother with the test," I said almost cynically. "I don't care about it anymore. I just want to go home."

"Well, I'm just following Mr. Stark's orders."

"Unfollow them."

"If only it were so easy," he smiled and held up a small vile of my blood. I gasped and looked down at my bandaged arm. He was right. I didn't even feel it. "You look like a nice girl caught in something bigger than you. Going home might be the best idea for you," he said with a wink before leaving me alone to wonder how he knew that's what I planned to do.

Once gain I fell into an involuntary slumber due to boredom. When I woke the room was dark save for the lights from the machines. Outside my room the lights shined brightly and a few nurses would walk by every so often doing their rounds.

I sat up and pulled out the IVs and the sensors. The machine started to wail and I quickly leapt out of bed and unplugged it. The beeping died just as suddenly as it had started. I stilled myself so that all I could hear was my breathing and the footsteps outside. No one was coming my way but I waited a few moments longer before I was certain that the alarms hadn't warned anyone to enter my room.

A garbage bag filled with my belongings sat on a chair meant for guests. I strolled over to it and ripped it open, pulling out my blood-stained tattered clothes. Quickly I dressed, feeling the stitches at my back pull at the strain of my movements. I inhaled sharply and slowed myself scared to rip them open. The last thing I wanted to do was have to find a nurse and have them stitch them up again while having to explain that I was trying to escape so I could go home.

I patted my pockets and started to feel frantic. The photo of my Mother with Tony was gone. Hysterical I began to tear through the bag just in case it had fallen out, double checked my pockets and searched along the counter. As my heart pounded against my chest I realized it must have fallen out of my pockets while I was being tossed out a window. My face pulled into a frown and tears stung at the corner of my eyes at the apprehension that'd I'd never see that photo again.

Sighing in defeat I pulled my hair into a ponytail and headed for the door. Just as I reached out of for the doorknob it twisted open. I jumped back and brought my gaze up to the familiar face of my mother. Standing in the doorway holding my photo with a grim expression scrawled across his face was Tony; my father.

I didn't need to hear him say, "I guess we have a lot of catching up to do," to know that he knew he had a twenty-one year old daughter.


	5. Chapter Four: You People----

**A/N: Hey guys! So sorry I've been lacking with this story. Had major writer's block and then between school and NaNoWrimo and my other fanfic it's like ahhhh. I promise I'm not letting this story die though, I want to finish it and have big plans for it. But, my focus right now is on my Captain America fic "The Road to Rebirth" which I've decided after writing a Loki piece that I want to tie these stories in together. So this one takes place after that one :) if that makes sense. Anyways. I love all the comments and the reviews. Keep them coming! And be sure to check out my other story. Thank you again.  
**

** s/8535613/1/The-Road-to-Rebirth**

* * *

**Chapter Four: You People Work on Commission, Right?**

Elegant orchestrated music played inside the quiet restaurant. The patrons inside murmured amongst one another and every so often someone would laugh or glasses would clank against each other. The waiters were dressed all in black with their hair neatly tucked behind their neck, or cut short above their ears. As I sat inside feeling out of place I couldn't help but think of how unreal it all felt. Like the entire thing was nothing more than a dream—or a prank about to go wrong.

Inhaling deeply, I turned my attention to my glass of wine and drank heartily blushing wildly at the tsking from an elder woman next to my table. Carefully I set the drink down onto the table, my fingers trembling as the bottom of the glass landed awkwardly on the table cloth. The moment my hand let it go the glass tipped over spilling all over the silk white fabric and the dark red carpet under my feet.

Embarrassed I quickly stood up and attempted to help the waiter who had rushed over to clean up the mess. Over and over I apologized until Tony held out his hand and put it calmly on my arm. He raised both eyebrows and nodded to the seat. The waiter looked at me with a slightly annoyed expression and nodded at me as he quickly changed the table cloth. Swallowing hard I claimed my chair and sunk deep into it feeling as though I could easily die right then and there.

"Stop fretting," he said taking his own wine glass. "I own the place." And with that he dumped his wine on the floor, smiling at the baffled elderly woman who had judged me earlier. With a snap of his finger another waiter was there to clean up the mess as he turned his attention back to me, "See. Don't worry so much."

I smiled, the blush still seared across my cheeks and nodded. "Did you even know about me?" I asked.

Tony stared at me for a moment; the lines in his aging face almost seemed deeper than I had noticed before. He brought his hands to his chin and tapped his pointer finger along his lips, slowly smiling. "Straight to the point. Just as I like to do it." I didn't say anything, or even smile back. He knew nothing about me, or who I even was. I wasn't ready to start hearing the comparisons of a father and daughter's personalities. He cleared his throat and put his hands back on the table. "No. I didn't know about you."

I nodded, a little relieved. It was better than finding out that he did know about me and didn't care to find me. "My mom never really spoke about you. She didn't really say much until recently," I admitted, twisting the table cloth in between my damp fingers. Swallowing hard, I looked up at him and squinted. "Do you even remember my mother?"

He hesitated and that right there was my answer. "Viola, it's no secret that I am a playboy millionaire. It's on my Christmas card."

"Make jokes," I whispered feeling the tears sting at the corners of my eyes. Damn, I really didn't wan to cry in front of him.

To my surprise he reached over the table and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked up, blinking the tears away too startled to do much else. "You're here now, and I would like to get to know you. It is after all why you are here, and why we arranged this dinner, isn't it?" I nodded and he sat back in his seat smiling. "Where were you born?"

* * *

I stood staring at myself in the mirror, uncertain that I even deserved to have my body wrapped in such expensive materials. The dress I wore was a light peach color, with real diamonds hemmed along the top. It fit like a glove, draping down to the top of my knees with beautiful heels to match. Never in my life—not even for prom or any of the weddings I'd been in—had I worn such an elegant dress.

Slowly, I turned around to the smiling face at me of a woman by the name of Pepper Potts. While doing my research before coming to New York I'd learned that Tony had an assistant, who became the CEO of his company for a week, quit after the disaster of Hammer Industries, and became his girlfriend-like figure.

Only the few hours that I had spent with the beautiful, tall redhead it was obvious that she loved and cared about Tony more than anyone probably cared for him. Being the notorious heartbreaker that he was I really hoped that he wouldn't do it to the woman smiling before me. She was just…nice.

I rubbed my hands along the smooth fabric of the dress before quickly pulling them away and realizing that I hadn't washed them since lunch. I didn't want to ruin the dress just by touching it. Inhaling deeply I held out my arms and let myself smile, "You don't think it's a bit much?"

Pepper stood up from her the chair that she sat in and walked toward me, her heels clattering against the marble floor. "Viola, darling, Tony is one of the most flamboyant men you will ever meet. He is all about being a bit much." She widened her smile and laughed. "You look fabulous."

"Thank you," I whispered turning back to look at myself in the mirror.

It was weird, but I really did feel as though she was right. My mom always raised me on the value of appreciating what you have, and enjoying the little things in life, and of course not to judge a book by its cover. But, as I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror I couldn't help but smile at how beautiful I felt.

My long, dark hair was piled in waves down my back and the green of my eyes shined brighter than they had in long time. My face was free of make-up but the dress seemed to do all the work for me. Honestly. I felt as though I could have had my hair in a messy bun, bags under my eyes and not shaved and I'd still look like a million dollars.

I frowned at the analogy. My mom would be so disappointed if she heard the thoughts that were running through my head. Oh great. Here came the guilt.

I turned back to face Pepper and started to slip the heels off of my feet. "It's beautiful but I can't afford it."

"What did you think we were trying on dresses for?" She asked grabbing the heels from me and handing them to the eager saleswoman. "You're here to get whatever you want, Viola."

It just didn't feel right. To be spoiled and doted on like that. "No, really Miss Potts I—"

"Viola, you are the daughter of Tony Stark." I felt all the color in my face drain as I slowly started to realize the impact that it meant. Pepper offered a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

I nodded and walked back to the fitting room to free myself of the dress. I felt dirty, and I know it wasn't because I no longer had the fabric wrapped around my naked body. No, I felt dirty because the treatment I was about to receive wasn't something I deserved. All I wanted was to get to know my father.

I expected father daughter outings, and going to a play or seeing a movie. Taking a long stroll through the park and getting a hot dog with the works. Sharing dreams, and talking about books we've read. Not being in a hotel room bigger than the house I grew up in, or wearing dresses that probably cost more than all the clothes I'd ever owned in my entire life.

But, Tony Stark was going to be a normal father. He was a billionaire, a playboy, one of the most sought out men in the media. And, he wasn't just a genius and owner of Stark Industries. He was Iron Man. An Avenger. A hero—

"Oh boy," I whispered to myself as I stepped out of the room nearly pushed over as the saleswoman grabbed the dress and carried it to the counter. Quickly I grabbed onto her arm causing her to jump. "I'm sorry," I apologized, taking the dress from her hands. "It's a beautiful dress but I can't afford it—"

She pursed her lips together, looked me up and down and made a "mhm" noise with her throat. I gaped at her as she walked away, feeling the anger burn inside. How rude. My mom always said that you should never judge a person by their looks. That they might surprise you…well, be prepared to be surprised, I thought bitterly as I turned back to the dresses and picked out several more outfits.

Pepper looked at me trying to hide a smile of her own. She nearly busted out laughing when I said, "think of it as missed child support money."

"I think you and I are going to get along great, Viola Pine." I smiled as we walked up toward the register. As I dumped the clothing on the counter my smile widened as her eyes started to widen. "Put this under Tony Stark's account—wait—actually start a new one for Viola Pine." She turned to me and smiled slyly. "His daughter."

I returned her smile and then nearly died once the total was added up. Pepper took the bags without so much as a blink of an eye and we walked outside where Tony's slightly pudgy, but well-dressed personal driver greeted us. He took the bags from Pepper's grasp and put them in the trunk of the town car after opening the door for us and making sure we were comfortable.

The moment I sat on the leather interior the guilt flooded over me once again. And it remained with me as I stood in my huge hotel room surrounded by bags from high-end retail stores I'd only seen in movies. The shower I took in my stone décor bathroom with a faucet that was touch sensitive didn't wash away the guilt. And, as I slipped on the peach dress that started it all I knew that the guilt was about to eat me alive.

Sighing, I stripped off my dress and turned to my battered luggage that was tossed in one of the closest. I frowned realizing that the closet alone was bigger than the apartment that I had rented. Closing my eyes I remembered how quickly everything had gone by after Tony said we needed to talk about me being his daughter. It was definitely not what I had pictured being our first talk.

It pretty much consisted of him talking and me gaping. The apartment I stayed in wasn't fit and he arranged for me to stay in one of his townhouses. Instantly I declined knowing how elegant it would be and how out of placed it would be so he offered a hotel which I uneasily accepted. Little did I know what the hotel entailed. After living arrangements were arranged he basically told me we would be having dinner, he'd have a town car with a driver escort me to the hotel and in the morning a woman named Pepper Potts would arrive to take me shopping at seven in the morning. Then he was gone.

Just as he said I was escorted by a personal driver to the hotel, where I wasted a good hour just standing and staring at my surroundings. The bed I slept in was softer than a pile of kittens and I honestly couldn't remember a time I had slept so soundly. And, at seven exactly a knock broke that beautiful sleep to reveal a woman named Pepper Potts right on time.

The day had been fun, and I enjoyed spending time and shopping with her but this wasn't me. I wasn't the kind of girl who spent quiet literally thousands of dollars on just clothes. The only time I spent more than a thousand dollars on anything was for my car loan. And even that was in pieces with a ridiculously high interest rate.

For the second time that day I slipped the dress off of my body, inspecting the cuts and bruises that were almost gone. Whatever the doctors at that hospital had given me was doing wonders. Then again, I was Tony Stark's daughter—I should expect the best, right?

Shaking my head I grabbed for the luggage and started digging until I found a strapless red dress with fake rhinestones along the chest and side. It was my dress for Junior Prom and I had worked overtime just to pay for it. And, it was worth it. I smiled as I stared at my reflection, twisting my hair into a neat bun and feeling more like myself. Well, a dressed up version of myself.

Sighing wistfully at the peach dress that laid crumpled on the floor, I turned to leave the hotel not at all surprised to see Tony's personal driver standing at the door. He nodded at me and escorted me to the town car to take me to the restaurant with a name I'd never be able to pronounce. But, once there I instantly regretted not wearing the peach dress, or anything I'd bought under Tony's name for that matter.

Everyone that entered or left was dressed in high-end couture. Fashion that looked as though it belonged on the runway. Dresses that were probably issued to be designed from the Queen herself. And, there I stood in my $150 dress from JC Penny.

And, to make matters worse the Maitre d' wouldn't even let me enter. He looked me up and down once and waved me aside ignoring my pleas that I was there to meet with Tony Stark. A couple of women that overheard my cries laughed amongst themselves and I could feel the tears start to sting. What a disaster this was all turning out to be.

But, just then the sound of screaming women and the flash of photography caught my attention. I turned around to see Tony stepping out of a town car exactly like the one I had pulled up in seconds earlier. He straightened his tie and combed his hair with his fingers and walked straight to me, ignoring everyone else around him.

Placing a sturdy hand behind my back he smiled. "Shall we?" I nodded and walked beside him, casting a glare at the embarrassed Maitre d'. As we strolled through the entrance of the restaurant we were lead past the lines straight to a table of our own. Just as we were about to be seated he turned to me and said, "You look very beautiful tonight."


End file.
